Chapter 180

Looking at Smith, who had fainted, the foreigners in the banquet hall completely collapsed.

"Boss Ma! I'm willing to give you all my properties in Shen City!" a German merchant shouted, trembling.

"I... I have five trading houses in Hong Kong, I'll give them all to you!" another Frenchman also shouted.

Johnson then dropped to his knees: "My bank account, my estate in Yingjili, everything I have—I can give it all to you! Please spare us......"

A Russian merchant pushed forward his blonde companion beside him: "Look at my wife—isn't she beautiful? She's yours! Tell us what you want, we'll give it!"

The banquet hall was filled with sounds of flattery and pleading. These foreigners, who usually acted high and mighty, were now like stray dogs, rushing to offer up everything they had. Some cried tears, some trembled, and others had already been frightened into losing control of their bowels.

Ma San watched this scene, then suddenly threw back his head and laughed loudly. His laughter was filled with mockery and cruelty.

"Don't you understand yet?" he said, scanning the room with eyes like a venomous snake. "Today, none of you will leave alive."

Those words struck like a heavy hammer, shattering everyone's last hope in the hall.

"You... you can't do this......" Johnson slumped to the ground, "We are foreign citizens......"

"Foreign citizens?" Ma San snorted, "In Shen City, on Lord Lin's turf, you're nothing!"

He stubbed out his cigar: "You weren't waiting for dawn, were you? Today I'll show you what eternal darkness means!"

A chorus of desperate wails rose from the banquet hall. The foreigners finally realized that the identity, status, and wealth they prided themselves on were now worthless in this mad night.

The shadow of death loomed over every heart, fear flooding over them like a tide.

Half an hour later, Ma San seemed to have had enough. He snapped his fingers: "Old Five, lock all the doors."

Several of his henchmen sprang into action, sealing every exit of the banquet hall. Then they began splashing gasoline throughout the manor, and the pungent smell quickly spread.

"You... what are you going to do?" Johnson's voice trembled.

Ma San didn't answer; he simply took out a lighter in a leisurely way, lit the last cigar, took a deep drag, and then casually tossed the burning lighter into the gasoline.

"Boom!" The flames erupted instantly.

The banquet hall instantly descended into chaos. A French merchant grabbed a chair and smashed it desperately at the window. Amid the sound of shattering glass, as he was about to jump out, a "bang" rang out—a gunshot—and his head exploded in a spray of blood, his body crashing heavily to the floor.

The revolver in Ma San's hand still smoked, his face twisted in a ferocious grin.

"Ma San! You can't do this!" Johnson rushed to the window and shouted, "Even Lin Yu wouldn't dare burn us all to death here! This would cause an international incident! This would......"

"Things Lord Lin finds inconvenient to do," Ma San interrupted, his voice icy, "I'll do them!"

He snarled, madness flashing in his eyes: "I am a dog! A dog raised by Lord Lin! A dog vicious enough, crazy enough!"

The fire grew larger, thick smoke began to fill the entire banquet hall. The foreigners frantically smashed doors and rammed windows, but anyone trying to escape was lined up in Ma San's gun sights.

"You foreigners care so much about appearances, don't you?" Ma San exhaled a smoke ring, "Today I'll let you go to hell in style!"

In the firelight, Ma San's silhouette looked especially ferocious. He stood there, watching these foreigners who usually acted high and mighty, desperately struggling in the flames.

The fire grew larger, smoke roiled in the banquet hall. The expensive curtains and carpets instantly became kindling, and the flames greedily licked every inch of space.

"Help! Save me!" Shrill screams rose and fell.

Someone tried to douse the flames with red wine from the banquet table, but it backfired, making the fire even more fierce. Several women's skirts caught fire; they rolled on the ground screaming. Men shoved and shoved, trampling each other, trying to find a way out.

Johnson slumped in a corner, watching the banquet hall he had meticulously arranged turn into a sea of fire. The crystal chandelier exploded in the heat, shards falling like icy rain. The priceless oil paintings twisted in the flames, the figures within seeming to wail in agony.

"Oh God......" someone murmured in English, "Is this hell......"

The thick smoke stung their eyes, the heat of the flames made breathing impossible. Some had already collapsed motionless on the ground; others clung together, weeping. Smith, who had been hung up, was already silent, his body casting an eerie shadow in the firelight.

The entire manor was bathed in firelight. The meticulously trimmed gardens and fountains were now part of the inferno. Flames shot into the sky, painting the night crimson.

Ma San stood at a distance, silently watching it all. The firelight played on his face, making his grin look especially ferocious.

"I heard you foreigners love fireworks," he muttered to himself, "How about this fireworks display—lively enough?"

The manor collapsed in a roar amidst the fire, flames shooting skyward and lighting half the heavens. In the distance, fire engine sirens wailed, but Ma San knew that by the time they arrived, everything would already be over.

This grand "Waiting for Dawn" party finally came to an end in eternal darkness.

In the firelight, Ma San suddenly struck an exaggerated prayer pose, palms pressed together, gazing up at the sky.

"May the Lord bless you," he said in stiff English, a mocking smile on his face, "In your next life, never set foot on this land again. We don't welcome you foreigners here."

Old Five quickly stepped forward and respectfully draped a black windbreaker over Ma San. The night wind lifted its hem, and the firelight stretched his shadow long.

"Big Brother, the car is ready."

Ma San nodded, giving one last look at the manor collapsing in the fire. Flames shot upward, lighting his face intermittently. A cold smile curled his lips, as if he were admiring his handiwork.

A black sedan had long been waiting at the roadside. Ma San got into the back seat, casually tossing away the last stub of his cigar. The sound of the car door shutting was like a period put on this bloody night.

The sedan pulled away slowly, disappearing into the night. Behind it, the firelight painted half the sky crimson, like a grand funeral.